Bilbo: The First Ring Bearer
by KVeronicaP
Summary: Over nine years since Bilbo and Company restored peace in the Quest of Erebor, Bilbo celebrates his sixty-first birthday. However when signs of evil rise from the South, and Bilbo sees visions of fire and death, that peace shatters. The Ring weighs heavily on Bilbo's mind. He must embark on another adventure as the first Ring-bearer. He has a higher purpose than he imagined. UPDATE
1. Ch 1 - Unexpected News

**Update (4-6-20): For those of you who are returning readers, I have updated this story to take place ten years after tBotFA for various story ****reasons. Seeing as Bilbo lived to overtake the old Took at 130 years of age, 60 is still indeed the prime of his life for those of you who have only viewed the movies. Bear with me, and if I overlooked any time change, please send a quick PM my way, so I can fix it!**

***Neither Fili, Kili, nor Thorin have fallen in the Battle of the Five Armies***

"It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest, and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of men, who, above all else, desire power. But they were, all of them, deceived, for another Ring was made. In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a master Ring, to control all others. And into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life. One Ring to rule them all." - Galadriel, Lady of Light

* * *

**Ch. 1 - Unexpected News**

Cracked and mangled feet marched in iron chains, fire smoldered and raged, screams and ash filled the air, no light could penetrate the thick clouds. All things stunk of rotting, burning, and decay. Orcs whipped small-figured servants forward. Many dropped dead, muddied and faceless with their linked chains still dragging fallen bodies in the mud.

And above them all, a great, fiery eye looked down upon them, and the fire slowly roasted them all alive…

"Bilbo! Wake up!"

Bilbo bolted straight up as if he'd been prodded with a white hot poker in his back, panting, with his nightshirt sticking to his skin with sweat. The morning sun was shining through his bedroom curtains in Erebor, and as his heart slowed, he could make out the sound of birds flitting about outside, most likely searching for worms in his potted plants.

"Only you would sleep late on your birthday!" Kili was grinning at the door.

"It's way past sunrise! It used to be you dragging out the blankets from our beds to wake us up in the morning, not the other way around." Fili added, wagging his finger, "I know you know that we know you know you'd be loath to be unready for your party tonight!" Bilbo laughed shakily, thankful for his older companions' enthusiasm.

"Was it those dreams again?" Kili asked turning serious, "You say you've been having them almost every night now for ages."

"Maybe you should see Oin about it. He's good with that sort o' thing," Fili offered as he meandered into the room. "Sometimes we can hear you screaming from our rooms-"

"It's just a dream," Bilbo rebuffed. "Let's not talk about it. Indeed, there are enough matters in this world to worry about without adding this to it."

"But-"

"No buts!" Bilbo grinned groggily, "It's my birthday, so I get to choose what we talk about over breakfast."

He was right when he said that the world knew enough troubles. There had been stories over the last few months, of smoke coming over the Misty Mountains and of orcs and trolls venturing further and further from their usual homes. What had caused these small incidents, no dwarf or man knew, yet Erebor seemed safe for now. However, something was definitely brewing to the south.

"Since when have you become so high and mighty?" Fili grinned, kicking the side of the bed and chucking a random set of clothes to Bilbo to change into. Bilbo glanced at them and back at Fili, disgusted in his color choices.

"Oh, don't worry about him, Fili. Let the poor hobbit get ready," Kili replied. "Hurry up, Bilbo - you don't want to miss the preparations; you should see the cake Bombur's made for you! Well, what's left of it. We had a piece or two, just to make sure it was fit for our widdle baby ex-burglar, of course."

"Baby, _indeed."_ Bilbo chuckled, sorting out more tasteful clothes from his closet. "I'm sixty and in the prime of my hobbit life!"

"That's still more of a baby to us!" Fili grinned, dragging Kili out the door.

Bilbo laughed, his dream forgotten. Sometimes those two friends seemed never to grow up.

* * *

"Thorin, surely you're not still working on that!" Balin looked over the shoulder of the great Thorin II Oakenshield who was struggling with some complicated leatherwork. "The party is starting within the hour!"

"It is not my fault that leather is harder to work with than I anticipated," he grumbled, finishing the last of the decorative stitchings.

"Valar bless you, you know you could just give Bilbo an 'ancient' rock and he'd be content." Balin chuckled heartily as he continued, "You should have seen him a moment ago when he saw the decorations. He said they were 'too much'! Really, they are just gems hanging from silver twine outside our great hall!" Thorin scoffed.

Fili and Kili, like most of the company, had taken quite well to to the surplus of food and being fed like the royalty that they were, unlike Bilbo who usually thought the attention was too much. He always ended up flustered when people bowed to him, and he always insisted on fixing his own meals, even though the servants nearly always beat him to it. During his last birthday in Erebor, he'd even given half his gifts away to those who needed them more once he got back to the Shire.

_"Really, why would I need another ruby candlestick holder?"_ he'd mutter. _"Ori likes it much better than I do, though of course it is lovely. I just don't feel right with such a grand item collecting dust in my storages."_

"Eh, it's finished now," Thorin insisted and picked up his gift and heading toward the center of the busying and bustling. Contrary to past Bilbo-birthday celebrations, the party this year was being held outside the mountain, on the plains by the small forest. The whole area was alive with lanterns and decorations, which despite being lavish, Thorin was convinced Bilbo appreciated anyway.

"Uncle!" Kili greeted the older dwarf. "Gandalf still hasn't arrived. Uh, you don't suppose something has happened do you? He'd never miss Bilbo's birthday."

"I'm sure he's fine, nephew," Thorin insisted. "It takes quite a lot to get that wizard down. Stubborn old goat that he is."

"Who are you calling an old goat, _Thorin Oakenshield?_" Thorin must have received a grand fright, for Gandalf was standing just behind them, having obviously just come from the east on his little wagon cart. As usual, he looked quite smug in his wizardy sort of way.

"You're late," Thorin sniffed, crossing his arms.

"A wizard is never late," Gandalf replied smartly as he tapped his grayed temple. "He arrives exactly when he means to."

"Did you bring them?" Fili asked the wizard hurriedly, running up to him and trying to virtually tear apart the cart. "You promised you would, you know. Wizards keep their promises!"

"All in good time, young one of Durin, _these_ are best enjoyed under cover of darkness!" the wizard replied to him with a smile.

* * *

Naturally the party was a grand affair. After all, it was _his_ birthday. Of course, holding a celebration outside under the stars was quite odd enough for the likes of dwarves, but they understood Bilbo's preferences. The Dwarves of Erebor had learnt that, despite his odd ways, the young hobbit of Durin was worthy of their respect. Half the growing city had been invited and the other half had shown up anyway, and the hobbit of Erebor had learnt that, despite their rowdy ways, the Dwarves of Durin were among his most treasured friends.

Bilbo held Fili's gift up to the light of the setting sun: a rabbit carved from snow-white marble. The details were incredible. Were it not so cold, Bilbo could _almost_ believe it was a very still-positioned, very alive creature.

"I figured Beorn would approve," Fili replied smugly. "He always enjoys seeing our 'little bunny' on his birthday journey here." Bilbo scowled, but there was no real malice in his look, instead the two friends simply broke into laughter.

"Come on, my turn!" Kili cut in, "My gift next, good fellow - finest material you'll find in Erebor, next to the Arkenstone, of course!"

Bilbo didn't have much of a choice, seeing as the gift was thrust under his nose by the impatient younger twin. Upon opening the parcel, Bilbo realized it was a small crystal ball filled with water, diamond dust, and a tiny model of Erebor with every crack and boulder somehow carved and fitted directly in the center. Every movement caused the diamond dust to swirl inside, invoking the appearance of snow.

"It wasn't easy makin' that, I'll tell you," Kili mumbled around his chicken as he tore viciously into a leg "That crystal is hard as diamond. You could throw it at our Lonely Mountain, and it wouldn't break. It took me months to get it right."

"Thank you, old friend! It seems almost a shame simply to leave it on my mantelpiece. I'll have to think of a more cunningly contrived safe-space for it."

"Quit showing me up Kili," Fili growled under his breath with mock anger. Kili punched his brother in the shoulder.

Bilbo snatched his goblet up just in time to save it from being knocked over by the twins falling over the table and onto the ground.

"Can we ever have a celebration that doesn't include you two rough-housing like a bunch of children?" Thorin sighed. No one seemed to care, in fact, most of the Dwarves were now cheering the two on. Dwalin was even taking bets. Bilbo laughed and alternated cheering for both of them, it had been a long time since he'd had such fun. It was almost impossible to believe that it had been years since their quest to retake Erebor.

Suddenly, the cold, golden Ring burned hot through his coat pocket, and Bilbo jerked his arm to instinctively fish it out. Before he had even touched the small object, it had cooled, but when his finger brushed against it, it was as if he had been transported to another world.

Forests were leveled, and stumps lay smoldering, poking up from the ground like tiny welts on blackened flesh. Screams could be heard far off and muffled. In the distance, approaching a tall black tower, marched weary hobbits, chained to each other and nearing death. They were driven on by the whips of the grotesque orcs behind them. Each figure - one by one - became swallowed by the smoke surrounding the foot of this menacing dark tower. Atop its highest point stood a white-garbed man, calling out to the sky in a foul voice. Suddenly, ash and rock fell heavily from the sky, and Bilbo was jerked from his terrible vision.

"It's hard to believe that you are the youngest," Thorin remarked with dry humor, nodding to where Kili had Fili in a head lock without looking away.

"Y-yes, it is, isn't it..." These visions were entering Bilbo's waking world now.

Shaking his curly head, the hobbit drew a trembling breath and suppressed all feelings of fear and trepidation_. _Luckily, no one noticed his mini break since all the Dwarves were too occupied with settling their bets on the twins. Only wizened old Gandalf narrowed his eyes from across the long table at the flustered hobbit as he thoughtfully blew smoke rings from beneath his broad wizard's hat.

The corners of Thorin's mouth upturned slightly, and he handed Bilbo, who had only just regained his composure, a package wrapped in soft cloth. Bilbo unwrapped it feeling his eyes widen when his fingers brushed against leather. It was a sheath for his sword, Sting, made of dark brown leather engraved with silver patterns around the side. Magnificent gold thread held it all together. It had always been hard for him to find a proper holder for his sword, seeing as it was only more of a letter opener to most. Before Bilbo could react, a cheer went up from the loud crowd gathered around Fili and Kili as the eldest of the two finally pinned the younger.

"Do you yield?" he dared.

"Never." Kili only managed a growl since Fili had his face pressed into the ground. In a flash, he was up and pinning Fili. The tousle seemed like it would never end, yet it was interrupted by the sound of an explosion, followed by a bright spray of red across the sky.

"Gandalf's fireworks!" Fili exclaimed. "He's lighting them!" Bilbo bolted upright. He could have sworn he had heard this sound before - but not here. His mind instantly flashed to the loud thunderous cracks of the orcish whips leading the hobbits of the Shire to their doom. The Shire...

"The Shire!" Bilbo frantically scrambled to his feet.

"Yes, I'm sure the Shire has always greatly enjoyed our wizard's fireworks!" Clearly nearing intoxication, Nori put an arm around Bilbo and unsteadily jostled the small hobbit, who realized with relief that he was not in any immediate danger. Bilbo joined the rest of his companions and birthday guests to the clearing where Gandalf was now setting off the various rockets. However, the hobbit's feelings of trepidation and foreboding prevented him from wholeheartedly participating, which he would have done save for these returning dark dreams.

"Wow, look at this one!" Fili whispered as Kili hefted a rocket as tall as Bilbo. It was shaped in the likeness of a dragon. "Kili, pass me that lantern!" Bilbo braced himself for disaster. Quickly Fili took the candle from inside the lantern. He nearly dropped it before the candle lit the fuse of the dragon firework.

"Uh, Fili, you're supposed to stick it in the ground-"

"It is in the ground."

"_Outside!"_

"It was _your_ idea!"

_WHOOSH_!

The rocket was off, leaving Fili, Kili and Bilbo with a face full of ash, the twins coughed and turned to each other with a grin.

"That was good."

"Let's get another one!"

Unfortunately for them, Thorin and Gandalf were less than pleased with them since the rocket's lights turned into the shape of a fiery dragon that breathed sparks - an unsettling image to the Dwarves of Erebor to say the least, though they did enjoy watching it burst into flames and disappear with a grand bang.

As the two were sent to wash the dishes in punishment, Bilbo stood in the open air and gazed at the swiftly darkening sky, a bit removed from all the celebrations. He drew his hand over the skin of his cheek, and his fingers came down ashy and grayed from the effects of the dragon's take off. The sight of soot on his fingers unnerved him, and he washed his face and hands thoroughly before returning to the celebrations.

* * *

As with most dwarven celebrations, the birthday party had extended long into the night, leaving most of the members drunk and the others half passed out. Giggling like children, Bilbo and company finally made it back to their respective rooms where Bilbo was very ready to fall into bed for a week hopefully without any more nightmares. He entered his room and began fluffing his pillows, humming as he bustled along.

"It is good to see you so content." Bilbo cursed colourfully in Khuzdul.

"Gandalf! You nearly scared me out of my skin!" The wizard chuckled fondly, stoking the fire into life.

"After all you have witnessed, I think it would take a great deal more than my face to frighten you Bilbo Baggins." Bilbo sighed in exasperation. He was neither in the mood or in the right state of sober mind for Gandalf's riddles today.

"I have come about a certain ring you once wrote to me about," Gandalf continued, and suddenly Bilbo was very much awake.

"The Ring?" He muttered, patting his pocket where the ring was kept almost all the time now. He'd written to Gandalf some months ago when the Ring had first begun to weigh more and more on his mind. He found himself hiding it from sight for some reason, like it was some precious secret he couldn't even let his closest friends see, and he didn't know why.

"You think you know what it is?" Bilbo asked.

"I do," Gandalf nodded, "Have you worn it recently?"

"No. Not for a long time. Well, very rarely - only when strange, unwanted visitors come knocking at Bag-End," Bilbo admitted. "I have this strange feeling that, if I do, something… bad will happen. I don't know why."

"You'd best listen to your instincts." The wizard nodded in a cautionary manner. "Take this ring and throw it in the fire."

Throw it in the fire? Was he mad?

"It will damage!" Bilbo argued.

"No, I don't think it will, and if it does, thank the Valar," Gandalf muttered, removing the fire poker to allow Bilbo to very reluctantly cast his precious gold ring into the embers. As Bilbo shifted his weight worriedly, Gandalf let it burn in the cinders for a few moments before lifting it out again.

"Hold out your hand," the wizard ordered. "It is quite cool." Bilbo did so. He flinched out of instinct when the ring fell into his palm. To his amazement, it indeed retained its usual stony temperature.

"What do you see?" Gandalf asked with a knowing tone.

"I see… writing..." Bilbo muttered. Thin gold letters appeared to seep onto the the simple band as if a calligrapher had revealed invisible ink. Bilbo looked upon it in wonder.

"Elvish," the Hobbit continued. "It's written in some sort of Elvish, but I can't make heads or tails of it. It doesn't look like the Elvish I've read..."

"There are few who can," Gandalf whispered gravely. "That is the language of the dark land of Mordor." Bilbo shuddered; he knew of Mordor, of course - of the legend of Isildur and and Sauron in the Second Age. But this ring… surely this thing he'd found in a cave living in the pocket of a creature that fed on dead goblin meat, surely it could not hold a connection.

"After much research, I have discovered the inscription reads: 'One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.' This is the One Ring of Sauron," Gandalf explained carefully. "It was forged by Sauron many years ago in the fires of Mount Doom, and now dark things are stirring in Mordor once more. The ring wants very much to return to its master."

"But, Sauron was destroyed, was he not?!" Bilbo argued panicking. "I-I've read it… Isildur cut of Sauron's finger, putting an end to his power-"

"No, his spirit _endured_, within the ring… He will return," the wizard whispered, "As he grows stronger, so will the ring, it will call and corrupt, unless we stop it now."

"I don't want it." Bilbo exclaimed, "Gandalf you take it, you're a wizard you can-"

"_Don't tempt me!"_ Gandalf stood and began pacing Bilbo's room. "No, this ring is beyond my power, but you, it has not corrupted you, for you so far have been taking care not to use it. Therefore, I can only continue to entrust it to you. You _must_ keep it away from those who will use it for evil until I discover a solution."

"But, what if they come for it?" Bilbo asked quietly. "Sauron's servants. If he really is back, then he's going to come looking for the Ring - looking for… me."

"I will go and speak with the leader of my order, Saruman." Gandalf told him, "I have already spoken discreetly with a select number of wise leaders of Middle Earth on this matter. There will be a council at Thranduil's home in Mirkwood. You must make your way there as well."

"Leaders?" Bilbo questioned as Gandalf began to leave. "What about Thorin? The company? Am I to go with them?"

"No. No one must know. You must be alone on this path. Keep the ring safe, I will see you in Mirkwood soon."

* * *

Once Gandalf had left his room, Bilbo placed the ring far on the other side of his room. He knew he still had an adventure before him, even if it only was to Mirkwood, and he could not let this damnable ring could not fall into enemy hands. If Bilbo were to escape its corruption, he had to remove himself far from temptation's grasp.

Before placing it safely in a small trunk, Bilbo peered at the golden object that he had once so trusted. He had to be much more careful about it now. He locked the trunk and quietly slipped into bed. Bilbo had never slept so freely in a long while.

* * *

**Thank you all so much for reading. I have a good idea of where this story may go, so be sure to follow if you are interested and want this story at the top of my priorities. I do prefer to develop stories to be quality over ****quantity**** as best as _I_ can, so that you can enjoy them as best as _you_ can. I can't promise any sort of regular posting, so keep an eye out for more _Bilbo: The First Ring-Bearer_**


	2. Ch 2 - Departure

**Ch. 2 - Departure**

As the days were nearing October, and Autumn had set in, Erebor for some time now had known well the chilly breezes that signified that winter winds were soon to come - a gateway to a darker world. The shadows close, and the light wanes, and the mists rise like dragon breath. Yet… the stars always seem to shine brighter in the cold…

That's what Bilbo thought to himself anyway while he hugged his thin blanket closer over his shoulders as he gazed up at the tiny, distant pricks of light.

_There are still stars._

The day after Bilbo's birthday had carried on like any other, save for the few belated good wishes and late present-givings. Yet the hobbit could not seem to retain his previous good spirits. _It_ weighed on him. _It _was still there… And _he _was still here when he should be _going…_ Going where? To Mirkwood… Right. Mirk… wood.

Erebor's facade sure was lonely that night while the stars continued to blankly shine on the city of Dale far below, giving no messages of comfort to a lonely hobbit crouched and shivering atop the front gate.

Gandalf had left that morning to ride southbound toward the Brown Lands to cut across to Isengard. However, he did not leave Bilbo completely in the dark. The old man spoke with Thorin beforehand, encouraging him to urge the hobbit to make haste for Dale and then Lake Town before the week was out - hastily enough but without drawing much attention.

"Thorin, a word, if I may." The tall wizard had interrupted the King under the Mountain's midday meal of roasted mountain rabbit and damson cordial.

"May I ask, oh great wizard," Thorin sighed "what weighs on your mind so greatly that you must suspend my good enjoyment of food? Don't tell me it's the twins again?"

"No, master Thorin," Thorin twitched at the oversight of his rightful title. "Though if you approve of the plan that I will tell you, it may indeed involve those two. However, we must continue this conversation in utmost secrecy." Gandalf whispered his last sentence so that Bifur (incidentally trying to balance his cutting knife on his nose to the entertainment of his brothers) could not overhear as he was the dwarf seated closest.

"Very well." Thorin excused himself from his meal but mightn't have bothered since all the other dwarves at the table were occupied with applauding Bifur's successful achievement.

Even ten years of renovations had still not quite cleared the stronghold of Erebor from its dusty nooks and crannies, grand abandoned halls, and silent delvings. However, knowing the entire layout like the back of his hand, Thorin led the wizard to such a place where he turned toward the old man slightly annoyed once the wizard had lit the area with his staff.

"Well, what is it? There are to be plans of finishing the procedures for further excavations of the city, and I would prefer if I were there to oversee it. What need does this conversation have in order that we must talk with such secrecy?" Gandalf seemed to increase in size as his face darkened, casting more shadow over the already-dim room.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain, it would be in your best interest not to test the patience of wizards. Although you may hold the current title of 'king,' you hold no power over me." His face softened. "Though you influence and lead so many of these Dwarves of Durin, you must remain strong against yourself. There be no need for suspicion in your heart. I am only here to help you. You, and Bilbo Baggins who will not be seeing his home in the Shire for a while longer, I fear." Thorin's expression changed from surprise, to alarm, to discomfort, to surprise once more. The wizard continued.

"I have spoken with many other influential leaders about this matter, yet because of the dangers that are arising, I cannot entrust much information to you. You must understand that winds have changed, and times are darkening, yet no one can place how urgent this matter truly is. Only its gravity is clear. Though I cannot say much, you must know that there is the possibility that Bilbo Baggins is in danger, and there may be more. I fear he must leave Erebor as soon as possible. This matter is serious, for I would expect not too far off in the future, evil beings may come knocking at your door - none too kindly - asking for news of hobbits and the Shire. You must keep this information secret; you must keep it safe."

If it weren't for the earnestness in Gandalf's eyes, Thorin would have suspected the wizard had taken leave of his senses. "Bilbo, our simple ex-burglar and friend is in danger from evil… beings?" Thorin's tone betrayed his skepticism.

"Indeed. Have Bilbo leave before the week ends. Send him discreetly through Dale and have him come briefly under the protection of king Bard there. It will be safer in the city on the way to Mirkwood. He is to come to Thranduil's halls in the heart of the dark forest. Fear not, I have already arranged an experienced guide who will meet him in the city of Dale and perhaps another at the edge of the wood." Thorin nodded curtly.

"I shall do as you say, yet why did you not speak before this time. How long have you known of this… danger?"

"Not long at all. I have only recently discovered the true nature of a gathering evil, but there is still time. It's strength is not so great yet. However, if we play this game poorly, it will only result in its heightening." Gandalf seemed to sag slightly as if the world wearied him. "Poor Bilbo Baggins. Much depends on him, and he must carry such a burden. Indeed, I swore to see the end of his birthday before I burdened him further… It was the least I could do for an old friend." The wizard straightened and tightened his grip on his staff.. "Unfortunately, I must return to Isengard immediately and speak with Saruman the White. I trust you to carry this out. Will you do it, Thorin Oakenshied?" Thorin thumped is fist across his chest twice.

"By my oath as King under the Mountain, it will be done. I swear it on my ancestors, the Longbeards - Durin's folk… my folk." Gandalf returned the dwarven king's nod.

"Good. Though I suspect your choice rabbits may have gone cold, I believe that is all I am able to tell you at the moment. However, upon your approval, I would much prefer that Bilbo not go alone. Therefore, I am requesting the aid of both Fili and Kili to accompany him as far as the edge of Mirkwood. I trust the guide I have arranged, but I suspect Bilbo will be in want of closer companions." Thorin again gave a nod of acceptance.

"I suspect you will tell them even less than you told me, but as long as they are sensible enough to to responsibly depart, I shall permit my nephews to leave."

"That settles that, then. I shall speak to them myself."

* * *

Fili and Kili were none to pleased when they realized they had to leave their brethren on a journey to the edge of Mirkwood. However, their faces changed to horor when the wizard revealed that there was a possibility of Bilbo's endangerment.

"I didn't know!"  
"What will become of him, Gandalf?" The two inquired in astonishment.

"I can tell you nothing. Only travel lightly, softly, and hastily to Dale. In the city, you will find a trust-worthy guide whom I have arranged to lead you thereafter. I can only hope he is not delayed. You shall recognize him by the ring he wears on his left index finger." Gandalf proceeded to give the twins a description of the man and his ring and the location where he was set to meet them in Dale. The entire time, Fili and Kili bore grim expressions. They knew well when they must be hard-set and ready to fulfill their duties. Now was that time. If their friend's safety was on the line, now was not the time for rough-housing and firework escapades.

"I trust you shall carry this task out with the utmost care. I shall tell you what I have told only Thorin: You must keep this information secret; you must keep it safe. As you travel, be sure not to be followed by suspicious folk - we do not know if any sort of strangers may be trusted. In fact, I don't expect you ought to make yourselves known in Dale at all except to Bard. We do not know how extensively this potential danger's grasp has reached." The twins nodded with the gravest of faces and were sent off to pack provisions.

Meanwhile, Gandalf the Grey could afford no more time at Erebor; he left within the hour.

* * *

It was only two days after Bilbo's zero-and-sixtieth birthday that the three companions departed from the dwarven stronghold. A number of the Dwarves of Durin saw them off at the foot of Erebor's front gate, including the entirety of Thorin and Company. From then on, their fellowship was disbanded once more, but their friendship never would be.

None of them understood why Bilbo had to leave so soon after his birthday celebration (he would have been set to make the return journey to the Shire no less than two weeks after the 22nd of September); they only understood his situation was an emergency, nothing more. The whole of the company bore sorrow in their eyes but hope for a safe journey in their hearts for their dear hobbit friend.

As Bilbo walked past them with the River Running below to his right, he mulled over Gandalf's words from two nights ago. When he said "you must be alone on this path," Bilbo now knew he was speaking of the burden of the ring. Though two of his friends may be close by for partway of his adventure, no one but he must share in the heavy weight of the One Ring.

Looking up, Bilbo suddenly realized - whether by chance or design, he knew not - the company were all lined up in the exact order he had first met them, ten years prior in the Shire. Only Fili and Kili were walking behind him, leading ponies which were laden with provisions. As Bilbo passed his friends, they each gave him a sweeping bow and bade him farewell.

"I know not where you are going, but I wish you well, friend," voiced Dwalin.

"Good luck, Bilbo. I am sure you shall need as much of it as you can get," said Balin. Fili and Kili each put a hand on the hobbit's drooping shoulders.

"Farewell, friend," said Dori.

"May your road be short and your luck long," called Nori.

"You'll be on our minds; your presence can't leave our halls so easily!" declared Ori.

"I hope you find what you are looking for," nodded Oin.

"May the hair on your feet never grow thin!" choked Gloin.

Bifur could only wipe a tear from his eye and bow ever lower to Bilbo as he passed by.

"Good fortunes to you, friend. You will be missed here," said Bofur.

"I'll be sure to save you the best seed cakes on your return," bobbed Bombur.

"You nearly forgot this, good friend." Bilbo stopped when Thorin spoke. The king held out a loose parcel out to the hobbit. Turning, Bilbo reached out and gently took it from his friend's offering arms.

"Your mithril. You might need it. For the journey. Dangerous, you know. Never know..." Thorin trailed off as Bilbo clutched the parcel and bowed low to his king.

"Thank _you,_ Thorin, son of Thrain. So long as the memories of my friends never fade, any darkness that may threaten my heart will never take me over, and I shall say that all things are endurable. I thank you, Thorin Oakenshield and all my lasting friends here. Though I may walk in dangerous paths, I will fear nothing. And while I know my destination, I know not where this next adventure may lead me. Farewell to you all."

The three continued along the path - two young dwarves and a hobbit - while beside them, the River Running rushed by, washing away the painted leaves that were just beginning to fall.


	3. Ch 3 - Dale

**Ch. 3 - Dale**

_Ho! Ho! Ho! to the bottle I go_

_To heal my heart and drown my woe._

_Rain may fall and wind may blow,_

_And many miles be still to go,_

_But under a tall tree I will lie,_

_And let the clouds go sailing by._

The journey from Erebor's magnificent stone gate to the sandstone brick walls of the city of Dale was not too far at all. Bilbo had taught Fili and Kili this Shire lyric in that time, and before they had reached Dale's northern gates, they were already singing its rousing chorus to cheer themselves up. As they approached it's large oaken doors, Bilbo glanced up at the crisp blue sky above them. Though they were only facing the back entrance of the city, Dale's recovering magnificence was still very tangible.

Nestled in a sharp u-shaped bend of the River Running in the valley of Celduin, Dale was still a shadow of what it once was. Traces of destruction were still visible, even after a decade following the death of Smaug - cracked fortifications here, a neglected watch tower there. But Bilbo still remembered his past birthday when he traveled through the completed city on his way to Erebor last year. After three years of renovation, it was the people who had restored to Dale its glory. Though they were a mixed people, from the Long Lake, the South, and the West, they were happy to gather and take the opportunity of change in order to start a new life, a new adventure together.

Bard the Bowman had assumed the task of leading the reconstruction of Dale from the destruction of Smaug's desolation with any man, woman, or child willing to aid his cause. Two years ago, when the city was completed, he had earned the rightful trust and love of the city's people, and he became king of Dale since he was also a descendant of the line of Girion, the Last Lord of Dale. Lake Town itself had experienced a much greater influx of wealth due to increased trade and friendly interactions with Dale.

The Lonely Mountain seemed to facilitate more than the frivolous flowing of gold. The strong wooden doors before the three companions now stood as a testament to Bard's effective leadership, keeping the city safe.

"Who goes there?"

"Friends, travelers, from Erebor. Only passing through." The guards who were stationed at the top of the walls bore no clear markings on their garb or even bore a simple uniform as of yet. However, it was undeniable that they served their duty with zeal to their city. A great thud of a mighty crossbar lock could be heard as it was unhinged from behind the wall. Suddenly, the two great oak doors swung inward slowly, permitting Fili, Kili, and Bilbo safe passage through the city of Dale.

* * *

Dale was a city of wide avenues and squares with many smaller, branching roads and small places to sit and drink, to relax as folk went about their day. The city lay closely clustered, its sandstone brick rising high, glittering in the clear air with its flat roofs and domes and square towers, strangely peaceful in the clear, clean air. Though it was beautiful, Bilbo still thought it a little too closely packed and tall compared to the rolling green open hills of his beloved Shire.

Since the heart of the city lay atop a hill, roads and steps angled upward toward it, and the rusty tops of taller buildings protruded proudly above each other as they passed over Bilbo while he walked though the city ways below.

The sun shone warmly. People bustled about their business warmly. Hope pulsed from the bottoms of their feet, soaking into the ground and enriching the lives of all who passed through. It was certainly hard to believe that a mere ten years ago, this bright and lively city lay amid the wreckage of soot and ash. Great tanned edifices loomed, and suddenly a sunbeam would stab Bilbo painfully in the eye as he peered upward.

Children dressed in loose, colourful tunics rushed through the streets, eager to complete errands for their parents or mock-fight as they weaved between stalls. They reminded Bilbo of the young Shire children who were always so keen on Gandalf's fireworks.

An unseen musician played an exotic pipe instrument nearby, creating a majestic, albeit merry atmosphere around Bilbo. Stalls were covered with magnificently bright cloth. They selled browned fish, hard bread, unpolished jewels, shining metals, crisp linens, and delectable fruits.

Leading their ponies carefully through the streets, they decided to drop them off for the time being at a horse changer where guards could easily refresh horses. Due to their connections with Erebor, Fili and Kili had little trouble getting the horse keeper to accept their ponies. Nor was it hard to get him to remain silent about their presence in the city (with the help of a bit of hush money, of course).

"Are you sure we can trust him to keep or ponies? What if something happens, and we won't have them for our journey?" Bilbo bobbed up and down behind the twins, trying to get their attention as they strode through the steers, but they were too engrossed in making plans.

"Yes, and once we speak with Bard, Gandalf mentioned something about a guide here in the city to meet us."

"Frankly, I don't believe we even need one."

"Don't sniff at a wizard's words, Kili. I'm sure Gandalf has his reasons. He certainly has his uses."

"Very true, dear brother. Do you think Bard'll know him?"

"Our 'guide'? Probably. I mean Gandalf _did_ say he-"

"I wonder what sort of place he hails from if Gandalf so easily trusts him."

"Who knows? Who cares? As long as he takes care of our hobbit, well, that's our share taken care of."

"I wonder if our ponies will be alright."

"Uhm, excuse me, but would any of you mind sharing your plottings with a poor hobbit?" Bilbo was beginning to run out of breath, trying to maintain the same speed as the twins' quickening paces.

"Right," Fili tossed a coin to a vendor as he grabbed a shining apple from her cart. He bit into it with gusto, despite having luncheon before their departure. "The plan: Bard would probably be busy at this time, running his own city 'n all, so Kili and I thought we could bide our time 'til evening at a bar we have personally tested. We all wouldn't be there _too _long. We can vouch that it's rated to be more discreet while boasting the most hearty ales and liquors at the same time."

"In fact, I think we've probably visited and rated every tavern at this point." Kili stated this with a note of pride. Bilbo however, slowed his pace as he absentmindedly put a hand to the outside of his coat pocket.

"I don't know just how urgent my mission is, but what I do know is this: it is of the utmost importance that we maintain the low profile that Gandalf insisted we keep. I fear that if we go knocking on all the tavern doors in Dale, we may cause something horrible to happen by our delay. Besides, Gandalf entrusted me with this mission, saying that I must arrive at the border of Mirkwood with all due haste." By now Bilbo had lowered his voice to a soft whisper, and the company had halted on the side of the street. "As you know, I-"

"Shh." Kili put a warning hand on the hobbit's cloaked shoulder without breaking his stare from the object of his gaze. "Don't look now, but I think we're being watched." Kili then subtly placed a cautious hand over his bow as he squinted forward. Fili followed his brother's gaze. Both looked away sharply and urged Bilbo to put his hood up. The three moved quickly onward.

Though Bilbo could not see too well above the shoulders of the passing men and dwarves, a glance backward revealed a suspicious, tall man cloaked with only his eyes visible. His clothing was nondescript though he seemed to wear a cloth mask that reached to the bridge of his nose. His garb concealed much of his figure, but Bilbo catches a glimpse of eye shadow around dark eyes, sallow skin, and raven-dark hair. To the observant eye, this man was just another in the crowd, but to Bilbo's sharp eye and learned knowledge, Bilbo could tell he was a-

"Easterling, at least I think?"

"Yeah, my thoughts, as well. Most likely from some tribe east of the Sea of Rhûn. Something must be amiss if Easterlings are making their way so far west." Kili tightened his grip on his bow, but for the most part, his expression was calm. The dark figure, if he were indeed tailing them, was not traveling so close that the three could be sure of his pursuit. Fili, in order to silently draw his dagger, fumbled with his half-eaten apple that he had been carrying and dropped it. Bilbo kept a light hold of the handle of Sting. They hastened into an alleyway off the main cobblestone road.

"We've got to lose him in here."

Upon noticing the unfinished fruit abandoned on the ground, still slightly rolling at his feet, the cloaked man looked up and just saw the tip of Bilbo's green hood slip down to reveal his curly head and pointed ears. Fili threw a glance over his shoulder. The man was walking toward them with long strides now, quickly closing the distance between them.

"Damn. That's not what I had in mind."

Bilbo, too, stole a look back at the man, and his gaze pierced Bilbo's. Immediately, the ring in his pocket seared his skin with pain through his coat, and his vision dimmed. Fighting the urge to fall, Bilbo lurched forward.

"Watch it, friend!" Kili steadied the hobbit upright. The three were nearly running now. In a moment of quick thinking, Fili pulled the other two into the nearest tavern door when they turned the corner. the three ducked down beneath a from inside window, and Bilbo thanked his lucky stars that no one but an old bartender and an unconcerned hooded traveler who was calmly smoking his long-stem pipe were there to witness their escape. At a swift glance, the man had a tall tankard in front of him, and his legs were crossed out before him as he sat in the shadows. Fili and Bilbo bit their lips with bated breath while Kili lifted his head up only enough to catch a glimpse of their pursuer through the dusty window. Bilbo's heartbeat would not allow him rest. Kili sighed and slumped down. The danger had passed.

Bilbo looked about as he tried to slow his beating heart; the bar keeper only looked at them with a quizzical expression as he wiped a chipped glass over his counter with a rag. The air was musty, and the chairs and benches were sagging with age. Only one of four glass windows remained, fogged and yellowed by time. In one corner of the room there was a large rumbling hearth, over which hung a stock-pot with a not altogether unpalatable odour of hot soup emanating from it. While this tavern was only dimly lit from a couple of simple oil candles hanging from the rickety rafters, the light of that solitary man's pipe embers drew the attention of Bilbo's eye.

"A bit of trouble in the streets...?" From the corner of the room, that man's calm, clear voice reached Bilbo's ears through the stale air with a quiet authority. His eyes were shadowed, but his mouth was composed and thoughtful. Kili sprang up from his crouched position.

"Just the usual ruffians, you know. Liki at your service."

"And Fiki and your service.

"And Mr. Bilbo B-"

"_Bilbob Boffin,_ sir - a good friend of ours from the quiet western parts." Fili noiselessly tread upon Bilbo's calloused toe, causing him to squeak and screw up his face in a contorted smile to cover up as he bowed.

"I dare say we shan't trespass on your benevolent hospitality much longer," said Kili, turning to the bar keeper, his stubbled face in a convincing grin. Fili continued for him.

"We thank you for your time as we shall no longer be taking any more of it from you." With that Fili was about to draw a coin or two from his pack for compensation of the disturbance, but his blond face turned pale.

"_Fili, give the bartender something. We need to get outta here." _Kili ventriloquized to his twin. Fili swallowed as she shuffled his hands around his waist.

"..._I think we've been pickpocketed…" _All Bilbo wanted to do at that moment was escape the pensively strong gaze of the hooded man, still placidly smoking his longpipe with his boots crossed. His hand made it to his coat pocket, but he knew now of all times was not a time to disappear. Instead, Bilbo tugged on the shoulder of Kili, motioning that they should go, and the dwarf dragged his older twin out the door, still dumbstruck about their lost gold.

As they crossed the threshold of the dingy tavern and back onto the street, the cloaked man leaned back with a grin and a grunt of quiet amusement. Who would have thought?

* * *

"_That_ was far too close for the comfort of this poor hobbit." Bilbo had only just recovered his usual heart rate as he and the twins regrouped in a secluded recess of the streets. "And pray tell, _what _do you mean by 'we've been pickpocketed'?" Fili swallowed and shrugged sheepishly.

"Just that, I guess. Before we were being followed, I was certain it was on my person, but now… Someone must have nabbed it from my belt when we were all concerned with losing our stalker." Kili looked onward, scanning the area for any more suspicious activity.

"Strange, I didn't think Dale would have such dubious characters about the streets. Every city's got to have them, I suppose. Pity about the money. We can always make do without it; we've had far less to go on before this, you know."

"Well put, Kili," Bilbo dipped his head as he patted the chastened Fili. "There's no use crying over spilled milk, now is there. Gandalf gave us a mission, and we must carry it out with what we have. Though it's not evening, I suggest we head straight to Bard without any more delay. We've gotten ourselves into enough trouble to last us a while, I suspect. Regarding our money, perhaps we are better off without it. No more buying ourselves out of situations."

"Keep your hoods up," Kili nodded. "Though Dale is friendly, we have just learned that suspicious people are inevitable."

The three friends collectively decided that traveling the main streets would most likely be the wisest option since so many people milled the streets. No one ought to notice a trio of travelers among thousands of other city goers.

Once more, Bilbo could feel his spirits rising as they returned to the crowded areas where laughter and calls of good cheer swelled upward. The squares, roads, countless arches, and fountains were not ruinous, they were not abandoned, they were not choked with ash. Dale was alive and well. Though it harboured a tainted man or two with bad intentions occasionally, the city's walls contained men and women who only desired goodwill toward each other and a sense of unity in their times of recovery. Dale was strong.

It wasn't long before Bilbo and the twins reached the height of the city. As he turned to gaze over the faded red tops of the structures below him, Bilbo once more reflected that it was not so long ago when Dale was but a desolate city that bore the remains of men, elves, and orcs alike left to rot from the great battle ten years prior. The sun shone warmly.

At last, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo had reached their destination: the palatial building of Dale where they would presumably find Bard and obtain the means to meet up with their guide and thus continue their journey. Though it had barely started, and the gates of Erebor were still visible in the distance, the three had seen enough adventure for one day. The travelers approached the courtyard before it when their entry was barred by two young soldiers. Bilbo could tell from their stances and the way they held their halberds that they much more likely to be inexperienced volunteers than hardened soldiers. The elder guard's helmet was on backward.

"Oi, we ain't grantin' no passage to nobody oo's got no business round 'ere." Bilbo hung back and tried to sink further into his hood. The less people who knew a hobbit was running the lengths of Dale, the better.

"Please," Fili held up a friendly hand. "We are Dwarves of Erebor on our way to hold conference with king Bard of Dale. We carry no deception with us." Fili procured a note from Gandalf with which the dwarf had been entrusted if proof needed to be shown. Taking the letter with suspicious looks, the elder-looking soldier roughly read it as if he were trying to make up for his lack of commanding airs.

"Oi, lookit this," he whispered to his fellow guard. "I don't think the'r actually loiying. S'ppose this actually did come from some wiz'rd 'o fouwght in the Battl' o' the Foive Armies? C'n you 'magine?"

"Mate, if it's true, 'n we outta let 'em in."

"But nobody kin just walwtz roight in whenev'r they want."

Meanwhile, Fili and Kili stared straight ahead as they shared the same bored expression on their faces, their arms crossed. Bilbo, too, was beginning to get impatient.

"Awroit, we kin let 'em in, but if they want conf'rence with Bard, theh gonna hafta wait since he's noht 'ere 'n all at the moment." Fili and Kili's left eyebrows lifted at the exact same time, their previous positions maintained.

"Awroit, we've 'cided we're kin let you in, but if y' want conf'rence with Bard, you're gonna hafta wait since he's noht 'ere 'n all at the moment.."

"E's ohn official business 'n the city, 'e is."

Trying to maintain a straight face but with eyes filled with mirth, Fili bowed low as he politely addressed the older guard: "Would you be so kind as to direct us to his location if he is available." The two guards looked at each other and shrugged.

"I mean, e's at the east gaite. Y' moight catch up with 'im 'fore ev'nin' if ya hurry. Your business 'round 'ere really that import'nt?" Kili winked at the two and patted their shoulders as he took Gandalf's letter from their bewildered hands.

"Thank'ee koindly, sirs. We'wl be off niow!" As they turned back around down the steps from the building and out of earshot, Fili punched Kili's arm and tried to admonish his younger twin.

"That was uncalled for! Those two were obviously trying to do their duty, and you come along and make a damn good impression of them!" The two brothers burst into hearty laughter as they attempted to feebly punch each other back, tears forming in their eyes.

Bilbo let out a long breath in amusement. How did he live before meeting all his dwarven friends who brought such good and light-hearted company?

* * *

**Not gonna lie, portraying Dale exactly how I wanted was a bit of a challenge. Though I ended up using more of whatever popped into my head, I tore apart the _Hobbit _movies, but the shots of past-Dale didn't show much of the palatial building, and I even turned to _BFME_ for inspo (not much of a help, hah). Howard Shore has been my good companion this whole time.**

**Fun fact: Fili and Kili are actually five years apart in age, Fili being the elder. However a great deal of people think of them as twins. They're good brothers, so I think they might as well be. Stay safe, everyone!**


	4. Ch 4 - Simple Man of Dale

**Ch. 4 - Simple Man of Dale**

By now, evening was beginning to set in and the light of day just beginning to drain away as Fili, Kili, and Bilbo made their way to the east side of the city. The air was dry and cool smelling, and the chills of Autumn eves returned. Though the multitudes of Dale's people did not lessen in the streets, the city's color softened, and the red roofs of Dale's buildings deepened to a rusty hue. Bilbo could only describe it as peaceful.

Before nearing the east gate, the time was spent - at least for the hobbit - marveling at the city's newfound magnificence and wishing with all his heart that the magic ring of his had never proven to be so dangerous. He hoped Gandalf's guide would prove to be trust-worthy and good… for all their sakes.

Before them now, dust clouds rose up along with bellowing shouts, warning those too near about falling bricks or timber. Clearly, this side of the city was still undergoing a bit of renovation due to a few caved-in walls or a stray watch tower that needed fortifying. Fili stopped to ask directions from a blacksmithing dwarf who was breaking down useless stone bricks to be transported out of the city. Bilbo drew his hood nearer around his face (Kili incidentally had just put his elbow on the poor hobbit's head for an armrest). A grunt and a motion over his shoulder without taking his eyes off his work was all Fili received from the dwarf.

"Come, Bard awaits." Fili motioned the other two over as they had since become occupied in appreciating the craftsmanship of a newly sculpted and brilliant fountain carried by six dwarves to be installed nearby.

They neared the edge of the east part of the city, where Dale's walls were being reinforced and heightened. Bard was supposedly overseeing this work at the moment. However, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo simultaneously stopped in their tracks when they beheld the unexpected sight before them. They saw Bard the Bowman, dragon-slayer, and king of Dale laboriously hefting a large timber log as he worked alongside the other dusty and muddied dwarves and men.

* * *

"I must admit, Fili and Kili, sons of Dís, and you Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, you caught me at a bit of a bad time. Today's city restoration operation was not proceeding as smoothly as I wished. The delivery of materials has not yet arrived from the West, and our timber trunks may not keep the structures from collapsing." They were now resting from the day's work ready to return once the evening set in. There were greyer streaks in Bard's hair that Bilbo had not noticed before.

"Father has done much for the city, but there is always more work to be done. We don't mind. We prefer to work with our hands as we have always done." Bard's son Bain, heir to Dale, whom Bilbo guessed had reached his twentieth year, offered the company a wineskin. Bilbo politely declined, but the twins readily accepted.

"I fear you've been over hill and over Dale," Bard said with a twinkle in his eye. "But tonight, your weary feet will rest (especially your furry ones, Mr. Baggins). You shall both feast and rest in the glory of the restored city! Dale welcomes you, old friends!" Fili and Kili dipped their heads to their friend, and Bilbo bowed. Tonight at least, Gandalf could afford to let them have one more night of merriment and friends.

Bilbo was surprised to see Bard walking so casually through the streets of which he ruled - dirtied, wearing no magnificent garb, even laughing openly at the twins' jokes and stories. Here was a king who cared naught for gold nor silver. His concern was only for his people. After all, though he was a dragon-slayer to many, to Bilbo, Bard the Bowman had always been a dear friend.

"...and shall remain so to the rest of my days," Bilbo said to no one in particular.

"Did you say something, master burglar?" Bard had turned now toward the hobbit, and with a start, Bilbo realized he must have spoken those last words aloud.

"Oh, no. Only... I was wondering why you're walking through Dale as if you were an ordinary man among men. Are you not king of this magnificent city?" Bard placed a hand on the hobbit's shoulder as they continued through the stone-paved streets. The glow of the city was now fading as evening deepened into night. Now oblivious, Fili and Kili were occupied with an odd contest as to who had the lengthiest stride.

"Funny thing that question is. You see, I _am_ an ordinary man among my men. Though my blood may run the same as Girion's, I had always been a man of Lake-Town. I served under the master of Lake-Town even after the dragon had fallen. While I may have possessed a greater claim than he to any sort of rule, a proper king serves his people first."

"That may be so, but could you not have ruled better than that greedy, undeserving villain? Lake-Town surely would have seen greater days if he had not come to be master of it." Bilbo was remembering the master of Lake-Town's particular neglect of one Bilbo Burglar-Baggins who had experienced a horrid cold at that time. Bard sighed.

"Indeed, the master was proven to be ill-fitted to that privilege when he ran away with a fair share of our mountain treasure. But… such are the hearts of many men. I've found, master burglar, that the hearts of child-like folk who desire only food and good cheer are better off living well in this world, and that is what I've decided I'll try to be." Bard gave the hobbit a warm, knowing smile as Bilbo looked down at his feet. He couldn't imagine the reason why Bard had said such words, but after all, he did not even fully comprehend yet the impact he had on the King Under the Mountain.

"Oi! Watch where yur throwin' yer weight around!" A dwarven vendor, one of the last to pack up his metal wares for the night scowled at Fili and Kili who sheepishly apologized, having crashed into the dwarf's cart of various items.

The dwarf grumbled to himself as he began tidying up. Suddenly, Bard let out his deep laughter as Fili and Kili started to bow low in apology. The vendor couldn't help but chuckle at the younger dwarves' folly. Fili winked at his brother.

"At least I won, eh?" Kili gave his brother a sour look before they, too, burst into laughter.

"You know, I really am sorry for all this. They're always like this - I beg your pardon for them-" Bilbo, ever thoughtful of decent hobbit decorum frantically bobbed his head up and down to the dwarven vendor in order to try and compensate for the twins' carelessness. It was another moment before Bard turned to his citizen with mirth in his eyes.

"Indeed, pay these two no mind; we can assist you, good sir" Realizing that his _king_ was before him. The dwarf's eyes widened, and he profusely apologized in turn and begged Bard not to trouble himself with such a lowly street vendor. Bilbo caught a glimpse of Bard's eyes saddening, if but for a moment, but they returned to normal as he dipped his head.

"As you wish, good sir. May your days be fruitful and your beard grow every longer." With a final apologetic bow in the vendor's direction, Bilbo followed the others as they continued through the city of Dale. A sad look came upon its king once more. Bilbo's heart went out to Bard. He understood well what it was like to be treated differently - even if Bilbo's own situation had been much different than a king's.

* * *

Amid good cheer and much laughter, the friends dined well that night in the house of Bard, king of Dale. It was a small celebration, but Bilbo and his two companion's hearts were warm and glad to be in the company of a friend before continuing a potentially perilous journey toward Mirkwood. Bilbo shuddered at the thought of returning there and took another tentative sip of his ale.

The ale of Erebor and Dale was hearty to the stomach and rich in spirit - just like its people who drank it. Bilbo enjoyed its strong flavours (though it was a little rich for his tastes.) He always preferred the simple golden beers of The Green Dragon or perhaps The Golden Perch back in the Shire. Bilbo recalled the excellent wine his father used to make.

"Hail, good health to king Bard and the mighty deeds he does for his city!"

"Hear, hear!" Fili and Kili held their tankards high as they praised Bard for his kind hospitality - and good food, of course.

"Oh, come now, we have to drink to your good health and to Mr. Baggins' as well. Though I do not know your mission, I know you are merely passing though my city. I sense you have quite a journey before you, and I wish you well on it! Good fortunes, my friends!" And with that, the four friends drained their drinks.

As Bard and the two dwarves caught up on events of their respective cities, Bilbo wondered at the simplicity of the king's living space. The walls, though refurbished in Dale's once-present marble, were bare, and there was no sign of silver nor gold in Bard's halls. He certainly spared expenses when it came to living like a king. Why? He _was_ a king after all. Bilbo chuckled to himself and reached for another bread biscuit. Bard certainly was a strong man in spirit, character, and in health; no dragon sickness could get to him.

One might think folly of a king who toiled alongside his people and boasted only simply decorated halls, but Bilbo found Bard's simplicity and dedication to his people admirable. He indeed now understood that Bard was but a man of Laketown at heart, noble and wise, yet not in any way above them.

Bard's dinner with the three companions went far into the night as they reminisced in past events, shared stories, and discussed future plans for both their cities. Bilbo had indulged in the food a bit more than he had intended to and was nodding off with his chin nearly touching his chest. The table once laden with savory meats, cheeses, fruits, and nuts had been cleared, and only the drink remained (of which Fili and Kili still heartily partook). The torches dimmed, and there was a warm glow about the company as they talked. The conversation had turned with more of a somber note to the fortunes of Erebor under the rule of Thorin King Under the Mountain.

"Our uncle knows now that all he experienced on our Quest for Erebor has carved his fate. Our uncle's changed... for the better, I think," Kili said as he meditatively gazed down at his drink.

"I believe king Thorin II Oakenshield values good food and cheer much more than he ever did. Over these past few years, he has proven to be a stern yet kindly king, willing to share his wealth with those who need it for the glory of his ancestors and Durin himself. It is no small feat to change Thorin's mind, let alone change his values. He lost himself neither to the dragon nor the Arkenstone," Bard said this with a glance at the drowsy hobbit. With sluggish thoughts and a sleepy memory, Bilbo recalled Thorin's parting words to him ten years ago as he was departing for the Shire:

_"If you or you kin ever have need of our aid, the Dwarves of Erebor shall be there." _In his doziness, Bilbo still deeply appreciated his friend's promise, yet he had always wished with his heart that Thorin's promise would have no need to be fulfilled.

"I can recall his look of near disgust as we returned the Arkenstone to Erebor after the Battle," Bard said. "Indeed, it had caused him so much pain and trouble. In turn, our one fourteenth share of the dragon's hoard was put to good use. After all, Laketown and now my proud city has been rebuilt. Though we all bear the signs or war, we are ever strong. Alliances between the dwarves, men, and elves are now stronger than they have been for many-a-long year in this land."

"Yes," Fili agreed as he further drained his tankard. "With the inspiration of the presence of our Arkenstone and the proud rule of our fearless leader, Erebor is restored. He's bringing Esgaroth and Dale nothing but strong economic ties with surrounding territories. We have even sent out ambassadors and emissaries to the Red Mountains in order to rekindle old connections, thanks to Thorin - the living legend of our forefathers!"

"Living legend and hero, indeed!" Bilbo sleepily exclaimed. "More like a motherly hen looking after the likes of you two, wrecking his halls and bringing down the tiled roofs with your jolly ill-bringing pranks and singing." Eyebrows raised, Bilbo took a sip of his ale before beginning to nod again. Fili and Kili brushed it off merrily, but Bilbo could perceive that they bumped their fists together under the table. Bard laughed merrily.

"But credit must be given where it is due. Is it not true that you fought alongside each other in the Battle of the Five Armies as you shielded your uncle's wounded body from droves and hoards of goblins and orcs? _That_ is no small feat. I heard that if it weren't for the bravery of his nephews, the position of King Under the Mountain might have been passed to Dain." Kili absentmindedly clutched his arm which had received a terrible scar from the very same battle.

"Speaking of Dain Ironfoot, how fares the steward and heir of Erebor? I hear he and Thorin recently sent an expedition to the Grey Mountains to reclaim his great grandfather's halls from the cold-drake.

"Indeed!" Fili exclaimed, lightening the mood. "Many feasts were thrown in their honor and many hearts went with them." The table fell hushed as Fili leaned forward with a light in his eyes. "There is also talk of perhaps taking steps toward reclaiming the mountain of Gundebad for the Dwarves once more! The Third Sacking of Gundabad may have a chance at truly succeeding with the weakening of orcish power due to the death of Bolg."

"Thank Mahal above for Beorn," Kili declared.

Meanwhile, Bilbo reflected on the nature of the Dwarves of Erebor as he closed his eyes. The dwarves, not just of Erebor, were a crushed people, battered by the powers of Evil and despised by the fair elves. And yet their resilience and bravery stood out to him. Here was a noble people. He was proud to be called their friend.

Bard, Fili, and Kili's talk lasted a while longer, discussing the increasing commerce of Dale, alliances among peoples, and the many merits of drinking hearty ale. All the while, Bilbo still struggled to keep his consciousness from slipping into the dreamworld, but it was not long before he gave in.

Bilbo's vision cleared suddenly, and a pungent scent hit his nose. The open air around him became acrid with the smoke of smothering fire and fog as the fields beneath his feet burned. The fumes of rotting corpses tasted bitter on his tongue. The roar of the fire made him stagger, and the heat waves rolled raging away behind him. Bilbo knew he was in danger, but he knew not from what. A line of chained hobbits with bowed faces trudged onward toward the wall of fire before them. Everything quaked. Their faces changed imperceptibly. They were not, indeed, in the fire, but only looking at its terrible magnificence, yet in it, every face could be read: They were in the abyss; and they were within its embrace.

Bilbo woke up with a jolt, his heart beating rapidly as he recovered from the events of his dream. He let out a deep breath as he realized where he was - in the halls of Bard in Dale, not in the everlasting dark, and Fili, Kili, and Bard were still talking as if not a moment had gone by.

"Easy there, Bilbo," Fili tried to calm the distressed hobbit.

Bilbo thanked Bard for his hospitality and swiftly excused himself from the table to his chamber.

* * *

**Just a very quick note, I recently learned that my father's good friend has gotten the virus and is currently in the hospital on oxygen, so I'm asking you to please pray for him and everyone else who suffers. We're living in times of solidarity where - though we may be distanced - we still live in interconnected ways with each other. That's why during this pandemic we can only support each other via technology - such as reading stories like these that bring smiles and entertain people, even if it's just for a few moments.  
Update: He's doing much better if any past readers were even vaguely wondering. He's a close friend of our family, so we are all grateful. Keep praying for those who need it.**

**Stay safe, everyone,**

**\+ KVP**


	5. Ch 5 - Ravens and Reports

**Ch. 5 - Ravens and Reports**

Like most of Bard's abode in Dale, Bilbo's room was simple yet warm and pleasant. A smoldering fire still fizzed and popped in the fireplace, and the bed boasted thick blankets. A washbasin stood to its left in which Bilbo cleaned his face and hands. He needed to think and clear his head. If he were back in the Shire, he would most certainly at this time be roaming the green trees of the Bindbole Wood back in the southern parts of the Northfarthing. Only now a large city surrounded the hobbit. Albeit grand, it had no forest or field in its walls for the hobbit to mull over his thoughts.

Bilbo let out a sigh as he dried his face. Indeed he missed his hobbit hole and all the comforts that meant home. He missed Erebor and all the Dwarves of Durin. He wished he was still at his birthday celebration; he wished he was on a peaceful journey; he wished he was not seeing such horrid dreams; he wished the Ring had not come to him; he wished -

And yet these things were not, and Bilbo closed his eyes. Immediately, he was pulled toward a world of dark things and choking fog. Bilbo tried to suppress these thoughts, thinking about the Shire, his friends, and even peaceful Rivendell. He only got some success. The vision faded, and he was alone with his bitter thoughts.

Drawing his magic ring from his pocket, he gazed at it. Was this small object really the cause of his dark visions? Was the evil power of some dark lord truly commanding it? Surely this useful little trinket could not possibly be so dangerous. Fighting the sudden urge to put it on, Bilbo clenched his fist around the golden band and set it above the fire on the mantelpiece.

He tossed and turned when he had soon after gone to bed. _It_ was still in the forefront of his mind, burning his consciousness with its presence just out of reach. To Bilbo, it was simply… there. The Ring was still visible, almost looking at him like an eye with its golden gleam. Bilbo tried to pull the covers over his curly head. For some reason, tonight it was driving him nearly mad that it was there in the room with him. He needed it near, yet he wanted nothing more than to cast it from himself.

Bilbo got up and placed it by his nightstand but hesitated. If it were so near, would the visions not increase? Frustrated, Bilbo shoved it into his pack and out of sight. This he placed in the far corner in the room and climbed back into bed.

Bilbo fell asleep wishing with all his heart that Gandalf's arranged escort would be trustworthy and able. He needed all the help he could get.

Late was the hour.

* * *

Thorin Oakenshield squinted at the horizon and the rising sun as he leaned out of his balcony with thoughts of his own. The air was chilly, yet it was refreshing to him.

His mind had just turned to the welfare of his nephews and master Baggins. Thorin let out a sigh. Curse Gandalf for not giving him the reason for their hasty leave. Their flight implied to Thorin that there must be some degree of danger about their journey, and he resented the old wizard for discounting the aid he could provide for the three. Fili and Kili would return in a few weeks once they had reached Mirkwood, but master Baggins might not return to his halls for another year. Resolving to keep safe until next year all the gifts and belongings Bilbo was forced to leave behind, the Dwarves of Erebor had placed them in tight vaults where no intruder was ever likely to find. Dori even had volunteered to take over the care of Bilbo's potted plants.

Thorin closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. What could possibly have caused Bilbo's flight to Mirkwood? What _was_ Gandalf planning? His thoughts were rudely interrupted as Ori burst into Thorin's room out of breath and wheezing. The King Under the Mountain turned and witnessed Ori clearly trying to formulate words, but clearly he had run too swiftly to have recovered his speech.

"Ori, what is it? Is there troubling news?" The other dwarf nodded and placed a hand roughly on Thorin's shoulder. His eyes were flashing with distress. Thorin was bewildered; Ori had been sent yesterday morning with a band of fleet-footed scouting dwarves to patrol the farther areas just after Bilbo had left the mountain. Ori's band wasn't expected back for at least a week's time.

"_Wargs_, Thorin," he choked. "Wargs heading south… We… didn't see them, but… the signs were clear. Bilbo… Fili and Kili... might be in danger. We couldn't guess what purpose wargs may have in these parts, but they came from the Withered Heath…" Thorin nodded grimly as he took in Ori's words. If it were wargs, and a whole pack of them, they didn't have long at all before they might reach Bilbo and his nephews, especially if they were heading directly south.

"Follow me, but fetch for Balin. Meet me in the eastern wing when you've found him." Ori dipped his head, and they hurriedly parted ways.

As expected of any Dwarf of Durin when any comrade was in danger, the three had swiftly regrouped, and they followed Balin as he led them toward the eastern halls of Ravenhill where many years ago, the wise and intelligent ravens of the mountain had made their home. Ever since the extinguishing of the fire worm Smaug, more of the birds had returned to Ravenhill, joining the one that had remained on the hill even after Smaug had driven out their dwarven allies. It was an outlying hill under the height of the mountain, and since more ravens had begun to call it home again, Erebor had begun a messaging system across the mountain and even with the new city of Dale.

In silence they headed for the hill and the rookeries of the ravens, and after some hesitation when they arrived, they stepped inside its entrance. They entered spaces that had once been halls and chambers, and walked among tall ferns and over dense moss instead of across floors with tiles and carpeting. When they looked up, they could still see the firey red sky of the morning. There were not only thick windows in the walls but also alcoves where they thought they could spot the occasional movement.

"It's the ravens," Balin said "It's a relief to see them begin to make Erebor their home again." Thorin nodded curtly. Though he respected its inhabitants, he despised this place. During the Battle of the Five Armies it was here where he had fallen and had been gravely wounded, and he was disinclined to remember it. There was no "right way" in Ravenhill, but Balin knew the ways of the labyrinth better than anyone, even if he were blindfolded. He led Ori and Thorin deftly through the halls and ruins. Suddenly, in a great flap of midnight black wings and feathers, a large raven bowed before Thorin and the other two.

"Greetings, O King Under the Mountain - and you Balin son of Fundin, and Ori, kinsman of the king. What brings you to our nests? Have you need of our swift wings?"

"Indeed, wise bird. May your winds be blowing and your direction true. I have need of you to fly to Dale and warn king Bard." Thorin and Ori both hurriedly related to the raven all that was needed regarding the danger of the wargs. Thorin knew Bilbo was only passing through the city, and since it was the second day, he might have already left its walls. However, he hoped with all his might that the three had tarried in Bard's halls long enough for the message to reach them in time. Wargs were the last thing they needed on their journey to Mirkwood.

"I hear and obey, O King," said the raven when he had received the message. With that, the raven extended his great wings and took off, sailing immediately through a fracture in the wall. Thorin stood gazing upward after it. He could only pray the raven would be swift enough to warn them. He turned toward Balin and nodded grimly.

"Round up our quickest dwarves. I'm sending a routing party after these warg filth."

* * *

Only a few hours before, Bilbo had woken to the sound of a smart rapping at his door. He groggily shuffled to it, and regretted not bringing his slippers. He opened it and saw Fili and Kili's faces in the dim light.

'''Morning, Bilbo," greeted Fili. I hope you're packed; we're leaving Dale in a few hour's time." Bilbo sleepily grumbled something about the horrible timeliness of dwarves and promptly shut the door. He could hear their muffled laughter fade down the passage as they headed for the dining hall. Indeed, Bilbo had asked the dwarves to wake from their sleep at dawn for an early start, and now Bilbo was regretting that decision tremendously. He had not slept well. The Ring pressed his mind toward darker dreams, and the poor hobbit kept waking up in his bed with a fright.

"Yes, they're getting worse, you old fool," Bilbo muttered to himself. "No use in dwelling on it now." He yawned and stretched and began to pack his small amount of belongings. It wasn't long before everything was set for travel. Bilbo hadn't packed much, knowing how quickly Gandalf wanted him in Mirkwood. Taking out Thorin's gift, he buckled it to his waist. The sheath the king had given the hobbit was a splendid and kingly gift - one of the ones that Bilbo simply couldn't leave behind. He had also brought Fili and Kili's gifts - the polished marble rabbit and the hardened crystal orb, having greatly admired both of them.

A few minutes later, Bilbo found Fili and Kili in the dining hall digging into their breakfast with gusto. The hobbit laid all his belongings next to theirs and and politely sat down while his two friends only nodded in his direction, too occupied with their food.

"Good morning to you, Bilbo," Bard eyed the hobbit from his cup. "I hope the night found you well." Bilbo remembered his sudden egress last night.

"Not very well," he sighed. "I thank you for your hospitality though. You don't know where we are going, and yet you house us so kindly all the same!"

"Of course. The Dwarves of Durin and their master-burglar are always welcome here," Bard chuckled. His expression changed. "Tell me though; what troubles you?"

"These past few months…" Bilbo hesitated. "I've been having strange dreams of late. Visions of dark and dangerous things with fires and walls. I can't say what the cause of it all is, but they keep returning." Bard looked at the hobbit thoughtfully then laughed.

"Can't say or won't say?"

"Speaking about dangerous things," Kili cut in. "We ran almost quite literally into a strange character yester-noon. We would bet our knives to say he was from the east."

"Yes, an Easterling, no doubt," Fili added gravely. "We suspect he was following us for some purpose or another. He chased us through Dale's streets. Can't have been friendly." Bard leaned back in his seat and stroked his chin.

"Dale has seen bad dealings with the Easterlings in the far past, and I'm sure we shall see worse times with them yet. This troubles me, and I must have word sent to the wall guards. I've noticed and heard news of things brewing as people come and go through my city's walls, yet nothing has broken out. Is it true a dark power is rising in the south?" Bilbo swallowed nervously. Fili and Kili only shrugged their shoulders. They couldn't say.

"At any rate, I am grateful to Erebor for keeping peace, and I'm glad we no longer will see times where we exchange unhappy blows." He sighed. "The morning lengthens, I will wish you now the best of fortunes on your journey. If I cross paths with the man whom Gandalf sent, I shall duly send him your way, wherever it may be."

Bilbo realized the twins must have told Bard parts of Gandalf's plan. In a moment of impulse, the hobbit spoke: "I owe at least this much to you, O King, if it puts your heart to rest, though I suspect it will worsen your doubt. Fili, Kili, and I intend to ride to the edges of Mirkwood. Gandalf expects me in Thranduil's halls as soon as I am able to arrive there."

Bard could not hide his surprise, and he openly exclaimed, "Mirkwood! It is very well you have a guide, for I'm sure you are well acquainted with the fact that all sorts of vile creatures make those woods their home outside the elven realm."

"That is why Gandalf said to us that he might have even arranged yet another unknown person to guide us through when we do reach the wood," Kili added, deeming it safe to speak since Bilbo had opened up to the king.

"When _I_ reach Mirkwood," Bilbo corrected. Kili only waved his hand vaguely in the air as he took a draught from his drink. Bard moved his hand across his face, and he suddenly looked tired.

"I warn you: Thranduil is a cautious king. He has never been known to take kindly to unexpected strangers, and," he said, turning to Bilbo. "I pray you, keep no secret from him. In his domain, no affair is hidden to him for long."

"I've hidden an entire hobbit in his halls for weeks at a time," Bilbo exclaimed, gesturing to himself in an attempt to lighten the mood. Thankfully, Fili and Kili exchanged knowing looks and burst into laughter.

"I am certain you did - though I know not how," Bard continued merrily. "Come, your journey awaits."

In the dim morning, Dale's walls emanated a majestic beauty. No more were its spire-toppled towers and cracked buttresses a credit to the desolation of Smaug. Instead, the rebuilt city stood tall, and its new proud battlements and elegant structures belied the city's strength and solidity. In the low sun of the early morning, the city's hill seemed to glow with an inner red light. Exhilarated, Bilbo reflected as he packed his pony that he was grateful he could gaze upon this city before he continued on his journey of which could hold unknown dangers to him.

At the humble request of Fili and Kili, Bard had ensured their three ponies would be sent for discreetly so that they could leave the Bard's hall and Dale itself without much notice. Fili had been on his toes trying to get his brother and Bilbo packed and ready to go, and Bilbo regarded his fondly. Kili had only rolled his eyes. Now as they rode out the palatial building, they nodded smartly to the two same guards who had directed them to Bard only yesterday. The guards only stared at them looking dumbfounded from their dice.

"Oi, mate, didn' we see 'ose three, yesterdaiy?" whispered the younger to the elder when they had passed.

"Think so, mate. Moity import'nt they must be." They shook their heads and returned to their gambling.

Having passed through the southern gate, it felt rather strange to Bilbo, to be leaving Dale and traveling on a real journey again. The hobbit felt the weight of his purpose again instead of the weightless, merry feelings he experienced in journeying there and back again from Erebor once a year for his birthday. He slung his pack over his shoulder and quickened his pony. His mottled green cloak was already dusty from the off-road territory the dwarves had taken. After all, unwanted eyes were the last thing they needed, even if it meant running through broken, uneven ground, up hills and across streams, and through heavy overgrown thickets. He began humming his old traveling tune. _The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began…_ Bilbo had missed this.

However, it wasn't long before every muscle in his body ached. Bilbo had no idea that he could feel so worn out and sore from simply riding a pony. Had he not done this for hours on end during his great quest? Not for the first time, Bilbo wondered if he could stomach an entire journey from there through Mirkwood. Clearly, Bilbo's leisurely strolls back in the Shire and more clear-cut, unhurried journeys to Erebor had left him in a less than fit state for real traveling. Fili and Kili had already related to him the fact that Gandalf's escort would meet them a league out of the city, and the hobbit painfully prayed he was already there waiting for them.

* * *

"Sir! There's news! We've just received a raven message from the King Under the Mountain!" Bard laid down his timber and cursed. He had been working all morning since Fili, Kili, and Bilbo had departed from Dale. Patiently, he regarded the panting messenger mildly.

"What is it? Speak quickly."

"Wargs, sir, headin' south! Just got a raven message from Erebor sayin' that their scouts had spotted signs of wargs not far off the near lands. We thought to notify you immediately" Bard cursed again. Not only was it dangerous for traders and travelers who wanted safe passage in Dale, but the dwarves and Bilbo were certainly at no advantage on their burdened ponies. Bard winced at their situation. Thinking quickly, he swiftly delivered his orders.

"Make ready a party of our quickest hunters and get them on the trail of this stray pack. Dale must be notified and the guards doubled. Now…" Bard passed his tired hand over his eyes in serious thought. "Whom can I spare? Whom can I send?"

"Might I assist you, King of Dale?"

A stranger had seemingly materialized in front of Bard and the messenger, his hood covered his face though his voice was not cold. The stranger, at a closer inspection, seemed to be of some importance, due to a silver six pointed star clasping his mottled grey and green cloak. A sword sheath was slung over his back, emblazoned with the same detailed effigy of a white star. He also carried on his back a small black bow and quiver.

"And who might you be?" Confused, Bard looked up at the newcomer who gave his calm reply.

"The man whom Mithrandir sent for to guide three endangered travelers."

* * *

**Though I found myself synthesizing the books and movie, it pains me a little to reference whatever lore was not in the books. Having such a great respect for Tolkien's book, I really don't think the movies were well done story-wise as Hobbit movies - though they are excellent action films, and I'm trying to abstain from coloring too much outside Tolkien's lines. However, I found myself giving all these characters both bookish and movie traits. I find that I've made Fili and Kili much more movieish because who wouldn't? Bilbo is a little more bookish along with Bard. Gandalf leans more toward being movieish, and Thorin is probably a mix. It's interesting to me as a writer.**

** Also, for those who might not be as familiar with Tolkien lore outside the movieverse, when Bard said that Dale would probably see more bad times with the Easterlings, he would be quite right. There actually was a major fight against them with Dale and Erebor in TA 3019 during the War of the Ring. If Thorin had truly survived the BotFA, he most likely would have led Erebor at that time, even though he was the oldest of the Hobbit company. Dale and Erebor would win, but victory would come at a high price.**

** Don't forget to review and tell me what you think so that I can improve. Thoughts and advice are always appreciated from my beautiful readers!**


	6. Ch 6 - The Wayfaring Wanderer

**Ch. 6 - The Wayfaring Wander**

**Many thanks to my make-shift beta who wishes to remain anonymous. You know who you are! **_**Le fael; agorel vae!**_

The three travelers emerged from a line of trees and into a sweet smelling meadow, one of the last of its kind before the frosts of autumn killed off the rest. The grasses were a brown green, and a few isolated patches of snow could be seen in spots that usually remained shaded for the better part of the day. It was pleasant, Bilbo thought despite his sore backside, to be riding off on another adventure. He squashed down the foreboding thought of his Ring.

As he continued on his way, past streams and back into woods again, he remembered his comfy home in the Shire. "Well, I shan't be returning there for a good long while," he whispered silently to himself. "It's certainly been a great length of time since I've had such a thought on the road like this." Suddenly, the memory of his past visions pushed and surfaced to the top of his mind - of his beloved Shire alight with malicious walls of fire consuming its green fields and trees. He quickened the pace of his pony.

Since their intended rendezvous point was only one league outside of Dale, the three travelers did not have long to ride, and with the sharp memory of the twins, they arrived shortly at their intended thicket of trees, just off the fringes of the banks of the River Running. The faint sound of water rushing and the protective walls of trees helped to soothe any lasting feelings of trepidation that Bilbo had maintained during their journey. It was an excellent and discreet meeting place.

"Just as Gandalf described," Kili exclaimed, impressed.

They unpacked their belongings, and Fili began a small fire. However, there was no sign of Gandalf's selected escort. Bilbo's disquiet grew as the minutes lengthened, and he soon was reminded that waiting was not his strong suit. The minutes trickled into hours, and Bilbo turned perhaps for the hundredth time to looking about the thicket while Fili and Kili settled for a nap. Upon the forest floor lay trees of yesteryear, fallen in storms long forgotten in the past. The seasons must have been harsh to nature; the bark and outer layers of many trucks were stripped away and bare yet rendering them all the more beautiful. They have the appearance of filed driftwood, and Bilbo thought they were quite distinctive, perfect for carving until he, too, inevitably fell into sleep.

Bilbo was first aware of the coolness of the air and it's loamy fragrance. The ground was lumpy to him, being on a bed of earth and rocks, and his clothes felt just as damp. Sitting up and squinting against the shafts of light that burst through the gaps in the leaf canopy above, Bilbo half wondered if he were still dreaming. Now he bolted upright, fully awake, perhaps more fully awake than he had ever been. A lone, hooded figure, neither Fili or Kili who were still fast asleep, was crouched over their fire, stocking its embers and feeding its flames. But at the same time, the figure seemed to meld into the trees due to the cloak he wore which bore a mottled grey and green coloration.

Surprised, Bilbo squeaked in alarm, ready at a moment's notice to draw Sting from his side, but the figure put a warning finger to his hooded face. With the man having turned around, Bilbo gasped in wonder: this figure now before him was the very same unconcerned traveler they had run into in the shady tavern when they were trying to escape their pursuer only a single day before! How in all of Arda had he crept up on them so quietly, and more alarmingly, how did he know where they would be? Bilbo felt a flash of anger course through his hobbit veins. Scrambling to his feet anyway, he drew Sting from its sheath and hissed, "W-Who are you? State your business, quickly now, ruffian. I don't want any trouble, so you should come quietly." At this, the intruder laughed softly, and Fili and Kili, too, stirred.

"Bilbo, that you laughing?" asked Fili.

"Wha'z the joke? We in Mirkwood now?" murmured Kili.

Both of them jumped to their feet in surprise when they caught sight of the hobbit holding his little elvish blade outwards at a mysterious figure by their fire. Giving their own shouts, they drew their own swords and assumed their own readied stances. The figure stood and calmly lifted a hand in peace. He drew the hood from his face, and all three of them gasped when they witnessed just how young the man was. Bilbo could have believed it if he had only just reached manhood.

"Alae! El síla erin lu e-govaned vin, naucondi, perian! Mae l'ovannen, na vedui," he spoke in the fair language that Bilbo knew instantly as elvish Sindarin. His eyes widened and Sting dipped to the ground. Fili and Kili glared still at the man suspiciously, but Bilbo with mouth agape dared to reply.

"L-Le nathlam hí." The stranger then dipped his head towards the hobbit gratefully.

"Bloody talk in dwarvish!" Fili exclaimed. "Or at least in the Common Speech. What do you want with us, and who are you?"

"I am the guide whom the wizard Gandalf sent for," came his calm reply. Now it was Fili and Kili's turn to look at him with mouths agape, and Bilbo laughed heartily.

"You have us quite a turn, good sir!"

"Indeed, unguarded sleep is perilous for weary travelers," the young man replied with a subtle hint of his own merriment in his tone. Tentatively, Fili and Kili both sheathed their blades, but their suspicious looks still persisted as they wearily eyed the young man's rather dangerous arsenal. However, Bilbo was quite overjoyed to see that Gandalf had chosen well, even if this man's face was still young. Indeed, anyone who spoke elvish instantly became a friend in Bilbo's eyes - perhaps not quite the safest life creed, but to Bilbo, the traveler had certainly proved his worth.

"From where do you hail, stranger?"

"From the North," he stated simply.

"The north is a rather large place," Bilbo countered good-naturedly.

"I'll have you know then, I came by the friendship of Mithrandir Greyhame only this past year. He sent for me while I was most recently in Imladris."

"Rivendell!" Bilbo exclaimed. He was becoming more and more excited by the minute. "Pray tell how you came to that fair place!"

"All in good time, Bilbo of the Shire. All will be-" but he was interrupted by one very exasperated Kili.

"Forgive us," he growled. "But you do strike us as a common rogue - even threatening, having broken into our camp like this! How may we come to trust you as the one Gandalf sent?" They young man inclined his head.

"An excellent question, master dwarf." He suddenly motioned to the silver, six-pointed star clasping his cloak below his throat. "I give you my oath as a Ranger of the North and servant to the free peoples of Arnor. I swear to you, sons of DÍs, I am who I say I am. And..." he drew out his hand from the folds of his cloak, and a small, silver object glinted in the light of the fire. "I trust the wizard told you to recognize me by the silver band that I wear."

Grudgingly satisfied, both dwarves gave the newly acclaimed Ranger a curt but respectful nod. However, the young man pulled back his hand and tucked it back in his cloak as if he wanted no unseen eyes to view his ring. If it were possible, Bilbo's delight only increased with this confirmation. He had never truly spoken with a Ranger before, for he knew they did not tend to engage by happenstance with the folk they guarded. Being an expert in western histories, he could not help but continue his admiration of the Ranger.

"A Ranger of the North! Gandalf certainly chose well! Goodness! Are you of the remnants of the Dúnedain of Arnor? Goodness! A real Ranger!" The young man only laughed.

"Indeed, good hafling. My kinsmen and I are the wanderers of the once-great North Kingdom." The Ranger bowed at this. "Forgive me for encroaching upon your rest. 'Ere I knew you as friends with many thanks to the instructions of Mithrandir, I did not wake you." To Bilbo, all was forgiven, but Kili whispered something unknown to Fili. Bilbo was both nonplussed and a little peeved at their hesitation towards the tall Ranger, who now looked upward and somehow had taken note of the sun's position through the thick tree canopy.

"The day wears on. If we are to get master Baggins to Mirkwood with all due haste, we must tarry little." All three travelers nodded grimly, but the Ranger turned to Bilbo with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Peditham hi sui vellyn?"

"Nácë!" Bilbo readily replied. "But tell me, what is your name, Ranger?"

"You may call me Thorongil," he calmly responded, and Bilbo thought that it was a bold yet fair name to bear.

* * *

Autumn was especially a more beautiful season along the River Running. With warmly coloured leaves dappling the carpeted grass and the icy cold flow of the river, it certainly would paint a wonderful picture to most travelers. However, the splendor of the trees and the blue skies failed to move the spirits of Bilbo and his dwarven companions. They had trekked for hours now, and Thorongil had not given them much time for rest, having continually pressed them ever onwards. Bilbo's heart was heavy with its inner burdens. Foremost on his mind was the Ring; it was worrying him for some time that day, and his visions, he knew, would persist every night that it remained near in his possession. The cautionary news of wargs did nothing to lift his spirits and soothe his growing uneasiness.

"Dale received word from the Mountain," Thorongil had said once they were moving south again. "One of the scout parties of Erebor brought back tidings of a stray orc pack riding wargs and coming from the north. We must be doubly on our guard as we travel and we cannot delay long. It was by the luck of the Valar in the West that I revealed myself to King Bard when I did. I fear what false equanimity we might have fallen into if not for King Thorin's swift message. He is wise and has his friend and nephew's best interest at heart," he had said kindly.

Now Bilbo shuddered in a sudden frisson of fear. They traveled across a rugged hill that gave way to dusty plains below. The air was heavy to the small band of travelers, yet there came no sign of an autumn storm. Bilbo looked out over the bleak, rain-wanting land and, for perhaps the thousandth time, cursed his fortunes. He shivered. _Wargs and dangerous rings: can I truly do this?_

"At ease, Bilbo." Thorongil had dropped back from his leading position, and the Ranger's own dark bay horse stepped into pace with Bilbo's pony. "I swore to Mithrandir I would do my utmost to protect you. Doubt is a creeping creature in the air, and it grows when one hesitates. Do not doubt yourself." The hobbit nodded, unsure of what to make of the Ranger's riddled words. Suddenly, the Ranger leaned toward him and whispered, "I know of the burden that you keep; I amar prestar aen. Telin le thaed. Your danger is great, but I will help you."

Bilbo's heart ran cold with ice, and a sudden glint of suspicion towards the Ranger took root in his heart, but he dismissed it in the next moment. If Gandalf had told Thorongil about his magic Ring, it was most likely for the best. Bilbo had to trust both the Ranger and the grey wizard, and now Thorongil was telling him to trust himself? Bilbo did not think he was capable, and he reflected that he needed to rely more than he ever did on the support of people whom he did not know well. He spoke softly at length.

"I have journeyed far these past ten years, with or without the Ring, with or without knowing my destination. And I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing quite where I am going. I have trained myself to enjoy it, but now that I know just how burdensome one small Ring can have," he said as he clutched his pocket. "I do not know whether I want to continue or whether I want to rid myself of it here and now. I come very close…" He drew it from his pocket to the Ranger's vocal discontent, but he squinted at it as he lost himself in its golden sheen. "And yet curiously I really have grown rather attached to the small thing."

Thorongil motioned swiftly for him to put the small object away, and the Ranger shot a swift glance over his shoulder as if to confirm that no evil eyes had witnessed the appearance of the Ring. Bilbo hurriedly tucked it safely back into his pocket, the moment having passed. He nearly scoffed at his own words.

"Forgive me. Something must have come over me."

"There is nothing to forgive. _It_ came over you." At one of the twin's prompting calls, Thorongil simply nodded and rode onward, leaving Bilbo to mull over his words.

* * *

"Indeed, I think Gandalf Tharkûn has judged well," Fili declared as they set up camp for the evening. They had stopped at a hollow by the River Running in the ground which lay surrounded and well sheltered by tall towering stones. The Ranger had roamed on further, scouting the area and ensuring that their night would be trouble-less. Kili huffed and continued to moodily buff the wood of his composite recurve. At this, Fili gingerly stepped around the fire in an impersonation of his brother while Bilbo observed and laughed at his friend's comical face.

"Well, there's something about him that just seems a bit off," Kili muttered. "I can't put a finger on it, but I can't help but think that he's hiding something."

"He's a _Ranger,_ brother." Fili rolled his eyes. "Of _course_ he's probably got secrets of his own. Very few now remember his kind, they're lonely men of the wild, nomadic and strange."

"I wonder how he came about knowing elvish," Bilbo piped in.

"He's too young in my opinion," Kili grumbled. "How can we trust someone who's got to be over four times as young as we are?"

"Oh, come off it, brother. _Gandalf_ trusts him, and that's enough for me." Fili dropped himself with his back to a great stone, and he calmly watched his younger brother polish his bow. "I still don't get why you carry that thing," he said at length.

"What?"

"Your bow; you've had it for a while. You talk of secrets, and yet a dwarf carries an elvish weapon!" Bilbo could have sworn he'd heard this argument between them before.

"It's quite useful; what of it?"

"But it's still a _bow._"

"What difference does it make if I called it _hakka? _How's that for _high elvish?_"

Bilbo viewed their bickering with a silent appreciation. He had hidden his magic Ring in his pack instead of keeping it on his person. Bilbo painfully felt its absence, yet at the same time, he felt unburdened, and the company of friends did much to relieve him of his downcast spirits. A welcome realization came over him: _Sturdy times may not last forever, but it is one's sturdy friends who do._ He laughed openly as the two brothers entered another one of their mock fights, the mystery of the young Ranger forgotten.

Unbeknownst to the three friends at the foot of the rocks, their guide was carefully watching their exchange. He pulled the mottled cloak he wore tighter around his body. As the biting winds howled about him, he elected to remain silent as he set his vigilant night watch.

Unfortunately for the poor hobbit, it was some time before the two brothers calmed down and settled for the night. As Bilbo pulled his thin blanket closer, he could hear their light snoring. However, another low, growling noise interrupted his doze. His stomach had not yet gotten used to rationed traveling, and Bilbo had been trying to discipline himself by forgoing his extra hobbit meals and tightening his belt when hunger did gnaw at him. Sighing, he knew he wouldn't get a wink of sleep if the feeling worsened. Quietly, he threw off his blanket and tiptoed around the sleeping forms of his two companions. Reaching for his travel pack, he rummaged for a spare scone or two in his hunger. When he drew back his hand from his belongings, his finger brushed past something cold, and his vision suddenly dimmed.

_A forest of dead trees lay before him, each one withered and sickly. The dry air crackled with a distant malevolent fire, and the fumes of smoke filled the forest with a sharp and bitter scent. In the center of the forest rose a tall, white tree. Not a bud could be seen on its bare branches, and its back was stripped, giving it the appearance of bone. At the tree's roots laid a corpse covered by a grey sheet. The shape and form of the body was that of a man's, and its outline was deathly still against its covering. Bilbo's heart filled with dread, yet he very much wanted to reach out and lift the sheet, seeing what person was shrouded beneath. His hand slowly extended, and the body lay ever still… He was so close…_

"Bilbo?" He nearly dropped his scone in surprise. "Are you alright?" Thorongil had seemed to materialize from behind the rocks, his brows knitted in concern for the hobbit.

"O-Oh, yes. I am fine, thank you." Bilbo's worried and shaken expression and heavy breathing spoke volumes to the keen Ranger.

"Truth is such a little thing in the face of uncertainty," he stated reticently. "Come with me." With that, the Ranger deftly leaped up over the rocks and disappeared behind them. With one last look at his sleeping companions, Bilbo hastily followed suit.

* * *

**To all my current readers, I wish you a very happy Easter Sunday!  
****Cheers!**


	7. Update

**Mae govannen, mellon nin!**

**Unfortunately, this is not a chapter update but an update to tell you that the First Ring-Bearer will be going through a very **_**temporary**_** hiatus. I've been having this niggling feeling in the back of my mind that I can improve this story and plan out its details much better. Since its initial idea was more of a 1 AM brain-child, I hadn't flushed out the details as I should have, and I apologize for that. So now I'd like to take a bit of time to do so, especially since I've also already begun another massive FF.N project. I can't imagine that this hiatus will be very long at all, so please feel free to follow it or keep a steady eye out for it in the future; I'd be remiss to disappoint any current readers. Thank you all for bearing with me!**

**Hanta hantanyel,**

**\+ KVeronicaP**


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